I'll Get You, My Pretty
by Loki's Derp Face
Summary: Sif, an ordinary girl who wants nothing more than to become a shield maiden, gets herself into a lot of trouble when she accidentally kills a witch. Worse than that, the witch's father is furious and he wants revenge. Wizard of Oz AU, without the singing midgets and flying monkeys. Despite the cover image, this is NOT a Sifki fic. Rated M because people die and Loki's a crazy mofo.
1. Who's Who

Disclaimer: Characters belong to MARVEL and Norse Mythology. _Thor_ composed by Patrick Doyle; _Thor: The Dark World_ composed by Brian Tyler.

Music: Thor OST Track 12 – Hammer Found / Thor: The Dark World OST Track 26 – Marvel Studios Fanfare (because I need to include it somewhere and it's awesome and I do what I want Thor)

This is not a chapter obviously, but I just wanted to mention the "cast" so to speak. Also, as opposed to my previous attempts with LOTR and SWATH, this story WILL have a soundtrack, and I WILL see it through to the end. I just had trouble matching the songs up with LOTR and...writing the smut chapter for SWATH with music playing in the background would have been weird. But this story will be different! Anyway.

Sif – Dorothy

Sif's parents – Uncle Henry & Auntie Em

Fandral – Scarecrow

Hogun – Tin Man

Volstagg – Lion

Freyja – Glinda

Vanir – Munchkins

Hela – Wicked Witch (East)

Loki – Wicked Witch (West)

Fenrir, Skoll, Hati, Jormungandr, Jotunheim beasts, black butterflies (just trust me on this), and other bad dudes – Flying monkeys

Thor – Oz

Heimdall – Gatekeeper of Oz

Aesir – Ozmites (that's literally what they're called; it sounds like an insect or something)

As I said to my Internet Best Friend 5eva, I got the idea for this because I saw a black butterfly. And I was like "Wow, wouldn't it be cool if, like, Loki used black butterflies to spy on people? Because they're all pretty and shit and he's gorgeous and stuff. No no no wait, HELA should have them. Oh! And then what if she died or something, so then he inherits them or something...but how? No, she's killed by someone, and then he gets all pissed off and seeks revenge against them, because he lubbs his bebbehs." And then it hit me. "Wait a second...this sorta sounds like The Wizard of Oz...hmmm. Okay seems legit." Pft what is this "sleep" you speak of?


	2. Prologue

Disclaimer: Characters belong to MARVEL and Norse Mythology. Music composed by Patrick Doyle.

Music: Thor OST Track 2 – Prologue

Prologue

When Odin and his brothers Vili and Ve killed Ymir, the creator of the world, chaos broke out all over the land, and anarchy reigned unchallenged. Gods fought against monsters, dwarves fought against giants—yes, giants—, but the worst of all was when humans took up arms against other humans. Generations of families were eventually wiped out from existence in the midst of the massacre and bloodshed.

As time passed, even those who were once allies and friendly acquaintances turned against one another. The bloodiest of the fighting was the war between Asgard and Vanaheim. Both immortal races, it was only a matter of time before these two clans would seek to gain power over all creatures, even each other.

Eventually, in a time of political and militaristic calm, the lands of Yggdrasil were divided into nine territories, which were then separated into four regions. After many years of conflict and civil wars, Yggdrasil fell under the rule and council of four very powerful sorcerers.

In the North, Freyja oversees her homeland of Vanaheim, as well as her brother Freyr's territory in Alfheim. She has also been given the task of guarding the Fields of Folkvangr, a final resting place for fallen warriors—a place similar to Valhalla, but not as revered.

Freyja is the kindest and most benevolent of the four, always looking for the most peaceful solution in every situation. After losing her parents in the Aesir-Vanir War, and almost losing her brother as well, Freyja tries to avoid violence as much as possible.

To the South, the Necromancer Hela practices her dark magic in her kingdom of Niflheim. A land obscured by mist and secrets, Niflheim is well known for its infinite supply of gemstones and precious metals. For years, light mages have been trying to ban spells that wake the dead, calling it "evil" and "unnatural". But this only fueled Hela's desires to learn more, to become stronger. To be _almost _the best.

The frozen citadel of Utgard is ruled by the strongest of the four. Loki, the sorcerer of the East, is not only Hela's father, but he is also her teacher. He is cruel, merciless, and above all else, wicked.

Ever since Loki and his daughter rose to power, Jotunheim, Niflheim, and the surrounding lands have become barren. Nearly all life has ceased to exist—including human life. The people either fled in time, or they became too sickly from pollution and perished. Most of the animals met the same fate.

While Loki is the strongest magic-user, and virtually invincible, there is only one person who has ever been able to defeat him.

To the West, the Aesir Thor rules Asgard from his golden throne, Hlidskjalf, which he inherited from his father. Although his talents in magic are miniscule at best, because sorcery is not a skill that is focused upon in Asgard, his mighty war hammer Mjollnir and control of the storm make Thor a fearsome foe, not to be under-estimated.

There is only one person who Thor has ever considered his equal. And that person, of course, is Loki.

To this day, the people who reside in West Midgard look to Thor as a symbol of strength, courage, and protection against those that would do them harm, just as Northern Midgardians pray to Freyja for blessings and good omens. A lush and healthy harvest means that Freyja is pleased, as well as a calm rain from Thor to assist with the plant growth.

A clap of thunder brings the people to their knees, and at times it is unknown whether this is a sign that Thor is in the midst of some intense battle, or if he is angry with the humans. Fortunately, with regards to the nerves of humans, there have not been thunderstorms seen for many years.

_But that is all about to change._


	3. Part 1: Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Characters belong to MARVEL and Norse Mythology. Music composed by Patrick Doyle.

I understand that people read at different speeds, but I'm trying to match up the words as close as I can to certain parts of the music. You may have to go back and re-read it in order to get a better idea of what I'm aiming for.

Music: Thor OST Track 1 – Chasing The Storm

Part 1: Chapter 1

They were laughing at her again. Well, not exactly at _her_. It was her poor attempt at sewing they found so amusing. It's not as if she enjoyed stabbing a needle into a piece of fabric—and her fingers—for hours. Her mother was forcing her to learn. Sif heaved a sigh, blowing a few golden bangs from her spacious forehead, then she untangled her thread and started _yet_ again. By the time Sif was dismissed for the day, she had more pinpricks in her hands than her needlework did.

As she traversed the winding dirt roads of her tiny village, Sif rubbed at her sore fingertips. She saw groups of boys playing some sport, or older boys and men walking the streets with swords at their hips. She looked upon both groups with envy.

_Just because I was born with breasts, why does that mean I have to carry a needle instead of a sword? If someone threatens to kill me, I can't defend myself by making clothes. And what if the man I'm forced to marry is a coward? It isn't fair!_

Sif realized she said the last part aloud because people were giving her strange looks, but that's how they usually looked at her. Because she was strange. Not only because she would rather do man things, but because she was nearly of age and still unwed. Normally, she would have already been married, and normally she would have already popped out several children. But Sif wasn't normal.

The concept of marriage had never been a concern of Sif's. It only seemed to matter to her parents. It wasn't as if her parents were disappointed in her, they just had a hard time understanding why she was...the way she was.

"_I don't want to pour wine for the Einherjar, I want to drink with them, laughing and sharing tales of great battles. I am destined to be a shield maiden, not a tavern wench!"_

Sif was eight when she said that to her parents, and even though it earned her a good whipping from her father, she still believes in her self-proclaimed destiny.

One thing that hadn't been part of her childhood fantasy was killing a witch. How does she manage to do this? Well, our tragedy begins with a giant rock.

You see, Sif knows that the only way to get into Valhalla is to die bravely in battle. And the only way to become strong is to practice with a weapon. Without her parents' knowledge, Sif had a wooden sword made for her. When that didn't feel right, she traded it for a spear. Because she is flat-chested, it was easier to pass off as a lad whose voice still had yet to crack.

As often as she could, Sif would go to her secret place in the hills, far from the village, and practice fighting against imaginary foes with her spear. If asked why she was so late, she would tell her parents she was talking to someone and lost track of time.

Normally, the weather wouldn't hinder Sif's training, but the storm clouds forming appeared very foreboding to her. She told herself she would turn back if things became too dangerous, but she had not expected the torrential downpour to come upon her so quickly. After finding shelter inside a small cave, Sif knew all she could do was wait out the storm.

_Thor must be angry._

As far as Sif knew, she was the only person out here. So when she heard a woman's voice, fear gripped at her. Had someone found her secret place? Was it someone from the village? Were they going to tell her parents?

But no sane person would venture into a storm like this. Not unless they found it absolutely necessary. Besides, the voice wasn't coming from outside...

Sif turned her head slowly.

_Someone is in here with me. What do I do? _ Sif shook her head. _No, I must not hesitate. A warrior does not show fear._

"Hello? Who is there?"

After sparing one final glance at the cave opening, Sif ventured inside. She called again, but no one answered. In one hand, she gripped her spear tightly. With the other, she groped at the wall, leaning on it for balance as she moved blindly through the darkness.

A flickering green light appeared ahead, and as she got closer, Sif noticed that the single female voice had multiplied. The newcomers didn't seem to be saying anything in particular, just making weird sounds.

Sif's eyes flickered between the light and the ground, because there were loose rocks everywhere she stepped. When the source of the light was visible to Sif, she had to take a moment to gather her wits. In front of her was what appeared to be a large gash in the air, and the green luminescent blood was clotted. Sif was so mesmerized by the spectacle before her, that she didn't notice it was drawing her in until her feet left the ground.

Up, down, left, right, Sif didn't know anymore. Her body kept twisting and turning, and she was moving so fast she thought her hair might be ripped from her scalp. Just as soon as it began, Sif appeared on the other side of the mysterious portal. When she landed, her heart leaped into her throat. The unintelligible sounds she had heard were coming from the animated corpses emerging from their graves.

"Get off! Get off!"

Sif shrieked as she slashed at a dead man that had grabbed a hold of her ankle. She was able to slice the hand off, but the body kept moving and the severed hand's grip persisted. Small black shapes zipped past her, and she flinched when she felt something sharp scratch her across the face. When she reached up to wipe at the blood on her cheek, another flew by and left a cut on her hand.

"Who are you?!" It was the woman who brought forth the dead. Sif recognized her voice from before.

Sif could barely breathe, let alone form words. When she didn't answer, the woman began to advance on her. Sif's first reflex was to stab her. However, Sif found that she wasn't going to be needing her spear after all. Because the nearby cliffs are so brittle, the portal's magic caused the stone to crumble.

Sif's eyes widened as gigantic boulders began tumbling down the cliff directly towards them, but she was frozen in place. While Sif covered herself to avoid being hit by the falling rocks, the other woman was not so lucky.


	4. Part 1: Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Characters belong to MARVEL and Norse Mythology. Music composed by Patrick Doyle.

Music: Thor OST Track 3 – Sons Of Odin

Part 1: Chapter 2

When all was silent, Sif decided to take a chance and slowly sat up. Miraculously, she came out of it unharmed. As for the other woman, she found no trace of her. The corpses she had called forth now lay still on the ground. A rustling in the bushes made Sif jump to her feet, but she released a sigh and lowered her spear when she saw that it was only a group of children.

"Are you the one who killed the witch?" A girl asked cheerfully.

"I...wha—"

Before Sif could form words, the children grabbed her arms and led her through the trees. She had to make a constant effort to keep a solid hold on her spear.

Music filled the air and people danced and twirled about. Food and drink was passed around, accompanied by smiles and laughter. Flower petals drifted from the sky and were picked up by the wind.

Sif was the only one who wasn't smiling. Her expression was one of complete confusion and discomfort, because the reason for the celebration was lost on her. She didn't even know _where_ she was. The portal had dropped her off somewhere, but she had received no hints.

People were constantly coming up to her and thanking her for killing the witch. Sif didn't remember killing _anybody_, but all she could do was force a smile and nod. The wounds on her face and hand had been cleaned and healed, so at least for _that_ she was grateful. Every time somebody approached her and offered food or drinks, even a dance, Sif waved it off. She hoped she was coming off as polite. One suitor was just turning around to leave when he suddenly went to his knees, as well as everyone else almost in unison.

Stepping forward through the kneeling crowd, the ethereal figure of Freyja glided towards Sif, her feet barely touching the ground. Sif was wondering whether she should bow as well, but the minute shake of her head told her that Freyja knew what she was thinking. Without being told whether or not to, Sif got up from the chair the Vanir had placed her in. Since Freyja was here, it was easy for Sif to figure out where she was.

When the two women were standing a mere arm's length apart, the rest of the Vanir gradually began to stand up from the ground. The instruments had stopped playing and the singers had gone silent. With bated breath, Sif and the Vanir waited for Freyja to speak.


	5. Part 1: Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Characters belong to MARVEL and Norse Mythology. Music composed by Patrick Doyle.

Music: Thor OST Track 4 – A New King

Part 1: Chapter 3

"What is your name, child?" Freyja asked in her angelic voice. If Sif hadn't already known that Freyja was much older than her, she would have been offended.

"My name is Sif."

"Well, Sif, my people and I are most grateful to you," Freyja spoke with a gesture to the Vanir around her, who all then bowed their heads. "We are forever in your debt."

"But _why?_ What did I do to deserve all of these gifts and kind words?"

"You killed—"

"Yes, I know. I supposedly killed a witch," Sif interrupted without thinking. She was just getting a bit irritated with everyone claiming she did something that she didn't actually do.

"—Hela." A lump began to form in Sif's throat and she felt sick.

"H-Hela," she gasped.

"Is this the weapon you used to slay her?" Freyja asked, pointing at the spear Sif had placed on the chair.

"No. I don't even know how I did it. But what was she doing all the way out here anyway?" Sif asked as she remembered being surrounded by the corpses that were trying to grab her.

"Causing mischief, of course. It runs in the family," Freyja replied with a smile and slight tilt of the head. Sif wasn't sure if it was supposed to be funny, but she cracked a smile anyway.

"_If you knew the real truth to that statement, you wouldn't be smiling."_

The light seemed to dissipate from Freyja's eyes, and the Vanir began to step backwards. Sif wasn't quite sure how, but the air was suddenly becoming colder, despite the fact that it was spring, and she could see her breath fogging as she exhaled.

A flash of green light made everyone gasp and jump out of the way, and then the speaker came forward, his burning gaze focused directly at Sif. He stopped until he was an arm's length apart from her, and then turned his attention towards Freyja. The sneer that adorned his face was filled with malice.

"Hello, Freyja. You know it's rude to talk about people behind their back." Without waiting for an answer, he looked at Sif again. "So. _You're_ the one who killed my daughter."

"It was an accident. I didn't mean to kill her," Sif said in a rush.

"And you think that _matters_ to me?" He narrowed his eyes at her. "The point is she's _dead_, and _you_ are the one responsible."

"Now Loki, just a moment. Be reasonable." Freyja raised her hands as if to try and calm him. "If we just try to go about this peacefully and negotiate—"

"'Negotiate.' You wish to negotiate?" Loki asked in almost a whisper. Then his lips curled into a smirk. "Alright, I'll _negotiate_."

While everyone was frozen in place, waiting to see what he would do, green fire began forming in Loki's hands.

People started screaming when towers of dirt rose from the ground, sending tables and chairs into the air, some even crashing into people trying to get away. The cobblestones began to shake and rattle as the ground quaked, making it nearly impossible for them to stay on their feet. Freyja had just enough time to shield Sif with her own body when Loki raised his arms, parallel to the ground, and released the inferno.

A ring of green flames crashed like tidal waves, setting every tree, flower, and blade of grass ablaze. The seat of honor that Sif occupied only moments before was burning away to nothing.

"Three days." Loki's voice was loud enough to be heard over the crackling of the fire. "Three days, and your pathetic _speck_ of a life will end. And if _any_ of you help her, pain and suffering will befall you and yours."

Just as he had come, Loki turned around and the crowd parted for him. As opposed to last time, where the Vanir stepped aside and easily let him pass, they were all on the ground and had to crawl away, some to avoid getting stepped on.

As soon as he vanished in a flash of green light, Freyja turned her attention to Sif, who was shivering violently and gasping for breath. She was clutching her spear tight to her chest, the only thing she had that made her feel safe.

A/N: Loki is, like, the worst party crasher ever. Just sayin'.


	6. Part 1: Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Characters belong to MARVEL and Norse Mythology. Music composed by Patrick Doyle.

Music: Thor OST Track 5 – Ride To Observatory

Part 1: Chapter 4

Sif felt disoriented when she was pulled to her feet. She still had a firm grip on her spear.

"There is no time to waste. You must come with me," Freyja spoke in a rush.

"Wait, what? Where are we going?"

"Not _we_. _You_," Freyja emphasized. "You must leave at once, for Asgard. It is the only place where you are safe from Loki's reach."

"Asgard?! I can't go there! I don't even know the way!"

"I do." Everyone turned their attention towards the speaker, who was a young man with blonde hair that was slightly tousled and a shirt in equal disarray. One could only guess what he had been doing moments before.

"And what name might we call you by?" Freyja asked.

"Fandral, if it please my lady," he said with a mock bow. "I know the way to Asgard, as well as a place to stay for the night. I have friends in the nearby fishing village."

Sif was still wary of this man, but if he could help her, she might as well trust him. She nodded begrudgingly, and she had to hold back a grimace when a smile lit up his face.

"You can have my horse. I never ride her anymore," Freyja said. "And you ought to take that cloak with you. The weather can be very unpredictable in springtime."

Sif swung the garment over her shoulders and tied it around her neck. It was the only gift she actually liked. It was blue inside for warmth, shimmering silver on the other side, made of material that repelled water.

When Freyja's mare was brought forth, a horse the color of honey with eyes like garnets, Sif noticed that Fandral was already astride his own horse. She was curious as to why he knew the way to Asgard and how he could be so confident about it.

"I will send a message to Thor, letting him know that you're coming," Freyja said as the two travelers turned their horses towards the long road that cut through the trees.

"I'm sorry for causing trouble," Sif muttered. Freyja shook her head, but was somehow able to keep smiling.

"We're wasting all that's left of daylight, so we should get a move on." Sif nodded. "To Asgard!"

After his horse had galloped at least ten yards, Sif clicked the reins of Freyja's horse—or hers now—and followed at a close distance, but left enough space so she would be able to see where he was leading her.

"I know it's a bit late to ask, but are you sure this is a good idea?!" Sif shouted over the clopping of hooves. "I mean, you heard what Loki said! If anyone tries to help me—"

"I have no family! So there's nobody for me to worry about!"

"Not even _yourself?!_"

"Nah. He can throw fireballs at me all he wants!"

Sif couldn't figure out how he was able to act so confident. If anybody threatened her life in any circumstance—which was the situation she just happened to be in—she wouldn't be acting cocky like he was. Maybe she didn't understand because she wasn't a man.

"How do you know the way to Asgard?!"

"I practically live outside the gates! You can see the palace from my village!"

"Then what were you doing in Vanaheim?!"

"There aren't any Elves in my village!"

"What do—" Then she remembered his state of dress when she first saw him. Alfheim is right next to Vanaheim. "You're a _pig!_" When Fandral pulled the reins on his horse and slowed him to a stop, Sif had to quickly do the same before accidentally crashing into him. "Where are we?"

"I already told you, I have friends in the fishing village."

"Are they _perverts_ like you?" Sif scowled when he laughed at her.

"Not the one we're going to see."


	7. Part 1: Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Characters belong to MARVEL and Norse Mythology. Music composed by Patrick Doyle.

Music: Thor OST Track 6 – To Jotunheim

Part 1: Chapter 5

"HOGUN! HOGUN, ARE YOU ABOUT?" Fandral shouted with his hands cupped around his mouth. "I HAVE COME TO COLLECT ON THAT FAVOR YOU OWE ME!"

Sif saw movement to her left, then a man approached them carrying an empty fishing net. Fandral was grinning at him, but he did not return the gesture. Instead, he set the net down, brushed his hands off, then gave Fandral a pointed look.

"First of all, you are the one who owes me a favor. Second, stop shouting. There are people trying to sleep."

"At _this_ hour?"

"Yes. It may interest you to know that children typically go to bed earlier than adults." Fandral shrugged. "Now, what do you want?"

"My companion and I need a place to rest for the night." When he said the word "companion," the man's eyes flicked over to Sif, who bristled at the reaction. "Just for one night."

Hogun let out an exasperated sigh. After picking up his fishing net, he jerked his head as a sign to follow him. The idiotic grin had returned to Fandral's face, but Sif was uncomfortable about the whole thing.

"You can stay for one night."

"Of course, of course," Fandral replied in a pleasant voice. When Hogun suddenly turned around, Fandral had to shuffle his feet to make sure he didn't run into him.

"My family is in that house, meaning you two can't be—"

"Oh! No, she's nothing like that." Fandral waved it off dismissively. Sif's ears were turning red and she pulled the hood down to cover her face.

"Not that it's any of my business what you do with women, but since I am sharing my home with you, I feel the need to pry. What is she to you, then?"

"I'm only taking her to Asgard, and then we will part ways. Right, Sif?" Sif was still too embarrassed to say anything, so she merely nodded.

"Even after all these years I have known you, I still don't believe a single word that comes out of your mouth."

"I have that effect on people." Hogun shook his head, then turned around and began walking again. Fandral looked over at Sif and leaned towards her. "I think he likes you." Sif pulled her hood down lower.

They reached a wooden structure, and after Hogun pulled open one of the doors, he hung the net on a hook that was attached to the wall.

"You can leave your horses in here. I added fresh hay for our own this afternoon, so there should be enough for yours."

"Thank you, Hogun." It was the first time Sif had spoken ever since the man had approached them.

At first, everything seemed quiet. Then all of a sudden, the horses began neighing loudly and bucking, nearly breaking Sif's nose. They hadn't even gotten the saddles off before they turned wild.

"What's wrong with them?" Sif asked, trying to grab for her mare's reins, but she was moving too much.

"I'm not sure. Something's spooked them," Fandral answered, looking around.

Sif's eyes widened and she stopped trying to calm down her horse. That same feeling of coldness washed over her, and she looked around, expecting to see Loki step out of the shadows, his hands poised to set the barn ablaze.

"_Did you really think I would allow you comfort? Oh no, my dear. You won't be getting any sleep tonight."_

The others heard the voice too, and they were looking for where it was coming from. But they were focused on what wasn't even there, and when the portal manifested, it was too late. Sif could only groan at the thought of having to go through that uncomfortable way of travel again.

Sif, Fandral and Hogun were pulled from the inside of the barn, and all they could see was various shades of green. When Sif felt like she was spiraling out of control, a hand grabbed her upper arm. Fandral pulled her against him with a thump, which startled her.

"My spear!"

Her heart leaped up into her throat as the weapon brushed her fingertips and she lost it. Then another hand grabbed it by the blade, and droplets of blood floated behind them. The spear was pressed into her hands, and she clutched it tightly. She wouldn't lose it again. After they each had a secure grip on one another, the rest of the fall was a lot smoother.

When they came out the other side, they hit the ground and skidded several feet. Dirt and gravel filled their mouths, and just the air felt dirty. After sitting up, each looked around, unsure of where exactly they were.

"Well, I have a feeling we're not in Vanaheim anymore," Fandral said, rustling his hair to shake the dirt out. Hogun gave him a reproachful look. "Too soon?"

A/N: Hogun's gettin' real tired of your shit, Fandral.


	8. Part 1: Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Characters belong to MARVEL and Norse Mythology. Music composed by Patrick Doyle.

Music: Thor OST Track 7 – Laufey

Part 1: Chapter 6

"Where are we? And what just happened?" Fandral's speech was somewhat slurred from the dizziness. Or maybe he had consumed alcohol at the Vanirs' party. It was difficult to tell.

"We went through a portal," Sif answered. "As to where we are, I have no idea."

"A portal? Huh. Well, where did it come from?"

"Loki, no doubt. He doesn't plan on making my last few days easy."

"Alright, before either of you speak any further, somebody fill me in on what's going on," Hogun interjected. "Why is Loki targeting you, specifically? What has he got against you?"

"She killed his daughter," Fandral said with a shrug.

"The Necromancer is dead? When? How?"

"When? About a few hours ago. How? Well, she _claims_ it was an accident."

"It _was_ an accident!" Sif retorted. "I don't kill people for the fun of it, especially not witches!"

"Oh? And just how many people have you killed?"

"One..." Her ears started turning red again and she averted her gaze. Her eyes then widened. "Hogun, your hand."

"It is nothing too serious," the man replied, opening and closing the hand since there wasn't much else he could do. His clothes were dirty, and he had nothing to wrap it with.

"It's all my fault. If I had not let go of my spear, you would not have gotten hurt." She looked down at the weapon in her lap and heaved a sigh. "A _true_ warrior would never be so careless as to allow his weapon to leave his hand."

"Why are you carrying a spear, anyway?" Fandral asked.

"So I can become strong and earn my right to enter Valhalla when I die." When the others didn't respond, Sif felt she might as well explain herself. "I do not want to spend the rest of my life making baby clothes and cooking. I want to be able to fend for myself."

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"And you're not married?" Sif's ears darkened again, and then she shook her head. "How come?"

"My parents are having a hard time finding a suitable husband for me, but that is really my fault. I'm the one who is unsuitable. Nobody with a brain would ever be interested in me."

"Nonsense. You're attractive."

"In case you haven't noticed, my forehead is _gigantic_. And I can't even blush properly. The blood all goes to my ears. Besides, men don't like women who think for themselves."

"That's not true..."

"Alright, then why are _you_ still unmarried?"

"Too permanent." Sif had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. She should have expected an answer like that. "So are you from West Midgard, as well?"

Sif nodded. Typically, people from West Midgard had golden hair, which was a trait that they inherited from the Asgardians.

"Yes. The Southeastern part."

"Oh."

Unlike those who lived in areas near Asgard itself, like Fandral did, the further away a village was, the poorer its people were. Sif's village was near the border between the West and the South. It was poorly located as well. There were no large bodies of water, so they couldn't participate in the fishing industry. It was hilly and dry, so farming and harvesting were nearly impossible. All they could rely on was hunting, and even that was a challenge.

"Since it appears we won't be leaving this place anytime soon, should we perhaps try to find somewhere to sleep for the night?" Hogun spoke up.

"A splendid idea, my friend. And it just so happens that I am an expert at starting fires."

"Do you mean to say that you can light a campfire, or you're secretly a pyromaniac?"

"Must you always?"

After shaking the dirt out of their clothes and hair, they set out in search of any kind of shelter. As they continued to walk, the aspect of having a campfire for the night was beginning to look grim when they couldn't see any traces of plant life at all. It was just black dirt, the occasional hill or cliff, and a murky sky. That wasn't the only thing that was unsettling.

"It is too quiet," Fandral murmured. "We can't be the only ones here." Sif increased her grip on her spear.

"I know where we are."

"Really, Hogun? Before you said you didn't. Alright then, where are we?"

"Svartalfheim."

"Svartalfheim? Why would Loki send us here?"

"Because of its location, Svartalfheim does not fall under the jurisdiction of either the West or the South. It stands alone," Hogun explained.

"So earlier, we were safe in Vanaheim because of Freyja. We were headed to the West for Thor's protection. But now there is no one."

"And because Loki can create portals at will, he could come here if he wanted to, and Thor and Freyja would be unable to do anything about it," Sif said glumly.

_He could kill me anytime he wanted. He doesn't even have to wait the entire three days. But I know he will. He wants to watch me suffer._

Sif hadn't realized she had stopped until she felt a hand on her shoulder. She lifted her head to see Fandral looking down at her, and he squeezed her shoulder gently, a thin smile on his face.

"Don't worry. I said I would help you get to Asgard, did I not?" Sif nodded, but said nothing. "I suppose that's an improvement."

"I'm sorry. I just really do not like this place. It's as if the air itself is toxic."

"No wonder the dwarves are always in such a bad mood, having to live in a place like this."

_How can he act so aloof all the time? Does he not understand the situation we're in? We could be stuck here forever. Or three days, in my case._

"Remember how we all thought that we were the only ones here?" Hogun asked. Fandral and Sif nodded. "Well, it turns out we were wrong. I can see movement between those two cliffs."

"Should we go see what it is?" Fandral wondered.

"It looks kind of big," Sif said hesitantly.

_What am I saying? Be brave, Sif._

"Forget what I just said. Let's go have a look."

As they got closer to the cliffs, the ground began to tremble beneath them. They had to hold onto the walls in order to remain upright, and once they were completely inside, they were taken aback. A troll with a large club in its hand was fighting against a man with red curly hair, wielding a battle ax.


	9. Part 1: Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Characters belong to MARVEL and Norse Mythology. Music composed by Patrick Doyle.

Music: Thor OST Track 8 – Frost Giant Battle

Part 1: Chapter 7

"Sif, you ought to stay back!" Fandral shouted over his shoulder.

"What? _Why?_"

"You can't take that thing on with only a spear. Hogun, do you have your morning star?"

"Of course not. I was not expecting to be fighting trolls in Svartalfheim, after all. It's not as if I can wear it on my person." The man scowled when a dagger was tossed to him and he caught it. "You want me to fight with this?"

"Unless you would rather arm wrestle with it," Fandral said with a crooked grin. Hogun narrowed his eyes at him and his mouth tightened into a thin line. "Now come on, he needs our help!"

Fandral gave Sif one last look with an apologetic smile, while Hogun glared daggers at the back of Fandral's head. Since he would be using the real one on the troll, preferably, it was the best substitute.

As she watched her two companions' retreating backs get smaller and smaller, Sif chewed on her bottom lip. While she appreciated that Fandral hadn't used her being female as an excuse to tell her not to fight, she was still disappointed. When she heard loud thuds to her left, Sif inclined her head to try and see around the cliffs. Not one, not two, but _three_ more trolls were lumbering out of the canyon, and the three men didn't seem to have taken notice.

Sif pursed her lips and shuffled impatiently from side to side, waiting, hoping that the others would turn around and look. She gazed down at the weapon in her hands, pressing her thumbs into the somewhat blunted wood. It had been completely smooth at one time, but after many hours of practicing alone, it had as many bruises as she did. But Fandral was right. The spear could easily break in half if she tried to fight. After leaning the spear against a nearby boulder, Sif pulled the Vanir cloak over her head and dropped it in the dirt. She then picked up her spear again and took off at a run.

"Fandral! Hogun! Behind you!" The blonde whipped around at the sound of the voice with a look of complete disbelief on his face.

"Sif, what are you doing—?" Then he saw the other trolls. "Mother of Odin!"

"Pay attention to what you're doing, fool!" Hogun shouted before leaping out of the way of a descending club.

Fandral grumbled something unintelligible, but whatever he said was most likely not suitable for children. Just as a club hit the ground next to him, Fandral slashed a deep cut into the troll's wrist with his sword before it could attack again.

Sif heard a throaty growl above her, and her eyes darted between the troll's warty face and its club. When she made no move, the troll snarled, revealing a mouth with only four crooked yellow teeth. Saliva sprayed as it ran at her. Just as Sif took a couple steps back, she tripped over a pointed rock that was sticking out of the sand. She landed on her back, and the troll had its arm raised, poised to crush her, when another club struck it in the face. It crashed into the cliff-side behind it and lay motionless. It seemed that one of the other trolls had also been in mid-swing and accidentally hit the wrong target.

It wasn't until the troll hit the ground that the red-haired man took notice that other people had joined the fight. He turned his head towards the source of the noise, and his eyes widened when he saw not only three people, but three more trolls had showed up. He didn't have time to reflect on this because he suddenly went flying into a boulder when a club sent him through the air. He felt as if his ribcage had shattered, and he was finding it difficult to sit up.

He let out a groan when he was suddenly lifted up by his armpits from the ground and practically dragged away. It was the dark-haired man, and judging by his appearance he was most likely from Vanaheim. He grimaced and pressed a hand against his abdomen, immediately regretting this entire thing.

"Let me borrow your ax."

"Excuse me?"

"I cannot fight a troll with a dagger. Let me borrow your ax." The man was still hesitant. "I will give it back."

He held his weapon out, begrudgingly, and the man took it from him without saying a word of thanks. He was curious as to what the Vanir planned to do with it, but he got his answer when he embedded the ax in a troll's forehead, and blood ran down its flat nose before it landed in a heap on the ground.

"I could've done that."

Still somewhat shook up, Sif got to her feet and tried to get her breathing under control. She looked over her shoulders to see that Fandral was still trapped in combat with his own troll, and Hogun was talking to the red-haired man, who was sitting on the ground. He appeared to have been injured. They probably hadn't seen what took place.

Not wanting to take a chance of the creature getting up again, Sif ran over to where it was unconscious against the wall. Sif was unsure as to where a troll's weak spot was, if it even had one, and she didn't want to risk stabbing at it only for her spear to snap because the flesh is rock-solid like its head. Then she noticed a thick vein bulging from its neck, and she knew that would be her only chance.

She saw a ledge just above the troll's head, so she made her way towards it. As she slowly inched her way up, she could feel her pulse beating in her skull. When she at last reached the top, Sif had to fight back the fear that was building up inside. She mentally scolded herself, reminding herself that a warrior would not be afraid. Sif closed her eyes and breathed deeply.

_Thor, give me strength __and courage__, and guide my spear so that I might slay my enemy._ She pushed off with her feet and leaped at the troll's neck. _Help me!_

As soon as the spear point pierced the skin, the troll's eyes flew open and it released a loud roar. The blade was lodged deeply into the creature's jugular by the time it got to its feet, and Sif was barely able to hang on. Blood was squirting from the wound and splattering on her face. The troll reached up to try and grab at her, but Sif pulled down on the wood. The spear tore through the flesh all the way to the collarbone before separating from the troll's neck. It pressed its large hand against the wound to try and stop the bleeding, but the cut was too large and blood flow too hard to contain. Sif scrambled away, getting black dirt all over her hands and clothes. She then got up and leaped to the side when the troll finally fell to the ground, never to get back up.

Sif noticed that Hogun was standing with the wounded man again, and he was waving his arms. He was trying to get her attention, and once he knew he had it, he made hand gestures as if he was putting something over his head. Then it dawned on her. She ran back to where she had dropped her cloak, snatched it up from the ground, then dashed over to Hogun and the stranger. After handing the cloak to him, Hogun immediately tore strips from the bottom and made a makeshift sling for the man's left arm. Sif said nothing.

Fandral's opponent growled when he sliced into the creature's flesh once again. There were so many gaping wounds that it was only a matter of time before the troll could take no more. It appeared to be standing on its last legs, anyway. Unbeknownst to him, this was the only one that was still alive.

It was well known that trolls were unintelligent creatures, so despite the fact that it was dying, it still continued to try and bludgeon Fandral to death. Because it was gradually succumbing to blood loss, its arm swing was becoming more lethargic. Without even putting forth much of an effort, Fandral avoided all of the troll's flailing attacks until it finally crumpled to the ground, scattering black dirt and dust.

A/N: Did anyone notice that I matched up Sif's prayer with Thor's theme? Well, I had intended it to be that way. I thought writing actiony stuff to a 4 1/2 minute song was hard. "The Compound" is gonna be a _nightmare_. 8 FUCKING MINUTES.


	10. Part 1: Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Characters belong to MARVEL and Norse Mythology. Music composed by Patrick Doyle.

Music: Thor OST Track 9 – Banishment

Part 1: Chapter 8

"Well, that was exciting!" Fandral exclaimed. His smile faltered when he saw Sif wiping the blood from her face with her sleeve. Hogun merely shook his head as he finished with the red-haired man's sling.

"Who are you lot?" He asked in an accusing tone.

"I'm Fandral, this grim fellow is Hogun. And this is the lady Sif." Sif grumbled something under her breath. "What was that?"

"I said don't call me 'lady'. I don't _want_ to be a lady." Fandral shrugged nonchalantly.

"My mistake. Won't happen again." He then turned his attention back to the stranger. "And who might you be?"

"Volstagg," he answered simply.

"Alright, Volstagg. What were you doing, fighting that troll?" Volstagg let out a sigh.

"My daughters wanted me to bring them back a toe from one of the trolls of Svartalfheim."

"A _toe?_ Why a _toe?_" Sif asked with her face scrunched up in disgust.

"You do not know my daughters," Volstagg said flatly and shook his head.

"Well, now you can bring them _for__ty_ troll toes," Fandral said jokingly.

"_One_ will do just fine," Volstagg replied as he pushed himself to his feet, somewhat clumsily because of his injured arm. As he picked up his battle ax, he was even more thankful that it wasn't his dominant arm in a sling.

"Do you live nearby?" Sif asked after she noticed that Volstagg didn't seem to have a horse or any other form of quick transport.

"Yes. The village is near the border between South Midgard and Svartalfheim. My home is in walking distance from where we are now." Even though he barely knew these people, Volstagg already decided that he liked Sif. She was inquisitive and relatively polite, while Fandral was just plain annoying. He wasn't quite sure what to make of Hogun yet, but he did save his life, so that had to count for something. "Hey, what's that?"

Hogun and Fandral looked to where Volstagg was pointing and saw a green light behind Sif, making it look as if there was a halo around her.

"Oh no, not again," Fandral groaned.

Sif could feel Loki's cold hatred inching out of the portal, and its tendrils were wrapping around her throat and making it hard to breathe. She was barely able to reach for the others before her feet left the ground.

"Sif!"

She couldn't be sure who it was that shouted, because the whistling in her ears obscured her sense of hearing. Sif felt a hand grab her ankle, and when she looked down she was surprised to see that it was Hogun this time. Even more surprising was that Volstagg had suddenly joined their group.

It was getting colder, and Sif could see her breath fogging whenever she exhaled. Coldness seemed to be a pattern with Loki, but this time it was different. It almost felt natural, as if Loki had no involvement in it. She was just thankful that she had put on the cloak again after she cleaned her face. It turned out that she was going to need it after all.

Sif made sure to keep a better hold on her spear this time around. She didn't want to cause anymore bodily harm to anyone because of her clumsiness.

The biting wind suddenly came to a stop, and when Sif sucked in a breath, snow filled her mouth.


	11. Part 1: Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Characters belong to MARVEL and Norse Mythology. Music composed by Patrick Doyle.

Music: Thor OST Track 10 – Crisis In Asgard (even though they aren't in Asgard)

Part 1: Chapter 9

The first thing Sif noticed was that it was nearly pitch dark. It could have been due to the fact that it was nighttime, but she had a feeling that this place was always in a state of constant darkness. Even the snow was dark. She scooped some into her hand, then immediately shook it off when it started to harden. It was so cold there that her body heat wasn't enough to melt the snow.

When Fandral sat up, he shook his head like a dog. He even had snow in his mustache. Volstagg was much worse off. You couldn't even see the red of his beard anymore.

"Well, it's plenty easy to guess where we are _this_ time," Fandral said sarcastically. He twitched his nose to try and shake the snow from his mustache.

"_This_ time? You mean you've been through one of those things before?" Volstagg asked. He tried to brush the ice from his beard, but most of the hair had already frozen solid.

"Yes. This is our _second_ time."

"Third," Sif mumbled.

"Pardon me, Sif. I stand corrected." Sif shrugged, not completely sure what he was apologizing for.

They all jumped in unison when a large chunk of a cliff broke away and tumbled to the ground with a loud crash. They had to cover their faces to prevent dirt and more snow from getting into their eyes.

"What happened to this place?" Sif wondered aloud as she gazed at the jagged rocks and morbid atmosphere.

"_Loki_ happened," Volstagg replied. "And the South has fared no better. Possibly worse. The Necromancer has inflicted more damage to the landscape than she has to the people."

"She's dead," Hogun finally spoke.

"What? _Dead?_" Volstagg rounded on him. "When? How?"

"I feel as if we've had this conversation before," Fandral mused. Sif rolled her eyes. She was starting to get really annoyed with the man's incessant sarcasm and inappropriately-timed japes.

"It is the reason why we were in Svartalfheim in the first place. She killed her, and now Loki is seeking revenge," Hogun explained.

"You?" Volstagg turned his attention to Sif, who bowed her head and suddenly found her shoes incredibly fascinating. Her ears were red again, but it was probably from the cold.

"We need to be extra cautious whilst we are here. It was dangerous in Svartalfheim because we were vulnerable and unprotected. But now we are in Loki's territory, which is the worst place we could possibly be," Hogun said, looking over his shoulders to see if anyone was watching them.

"Well, I really wish he would quit sending us through portals," Fandral griped. "I mean, it's not as if he has nothing better to d—AAHH!"

Splattered blood was absorbed into the snow from where a sharp rod of ice protruded through Fandral's torso. Hogun and Volstagg were immediately at his sides and each had an arm wrapped around him. Carefully, they pulled him forward, and the point gradually got smaller. When he was free, Fandral went to his knees and pressed a hand to his chest, but blood still dripped through his fingers.

As Sif watched helplessly, she chewed on her bottom lip and tightened her grip on her spear nervously. There was nothing she nor any of them could do. First Volstagg's arm had been broken, and now Fandral was going to...

She then heard a strange noise. It sounded like the fluttering of tiny wings. Then a black shape zipped past her, then another, followed by several more. They were surrounding her, and all she could see was black. The ground disappeared from underneath her.

A/N: Dude, if I kept going through all those portals I would have the worst jet lag in the history of ever.


	12. Part 1: Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Characters belong to MARVEL and Norse Mythology. Music composed by Patrick Doyle.

Music: Thor OST Track 11 – Odin Confesses

Part 1: Chapter 10

When Sif hit the ground, she heard a distinct crack, and there was excruciating pain on the right side of her face. She could taste blood in her mouth and realized that she cut her tongue on a broken tooth. As she sat up, she winced at every movement. Even blinking was torture. She reached up and barely touched her right cheek with her fingertips, but she withdrew at the sharp sting. It was already swollen.

Sif looked around the room when she heard somebody clicking their tongue, but she saw no one.

"_Oh dear, you've injured your face."_

It sounded like the voice was coming from somewhere behind her, so Sif craned her neck and searched for a doorway or dark corner that Loki might slither out of. When he still had yet to reveal himself, or say anything else, Sif became worried. She then let out a yelp when two bony fingers gripped her cheeks and turned her head around.

"_Personally_, I think it's an improvement."

"Loki please, I'm—"

"DON'T SAY MY NAME!" He squeezed tighter and tears began leaking from her bruised eye.

"I'm sorry. I told you already that it was an accident."

"I can cause accidents, _too_." The way he said it made Sif's skin crawl. "How was it that a _plain_ and _ugly_ little girl like _you_ managed to kill my daughter? _Well?_" His fingernails broke the skin when she didn't answer him and she let out a sob.

"Just kill me already. Please, you already have me. Just get it over with."

She knew that this was not how a warrior would behave. This is how a woman would behave. But Sif didn't care anymore. She had failed her parents, she had failed Freyja, and she had failed Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg. At least now they didn't have to worry about protecting her and they would all be able to return to their families and old lives.

"In such a hurry to _die_, are we? Oh, not to worry, I'll kill you for certain. But we still have three days left to enjoy ourselves." When Loki finally released his grip on her, Sif was not expecting it and hit her forehead this time.

"What do you plan to do with me?" Sif asked, rubbing a hand over the bump that was forming on her forehead.

"_Me?_ _I_ won't be doing anything. All of the credit will go to _you_." He pointed both index fingers at her for emphasis. "I am merely an observer."

"Observer of what?" Sif asked weakly. She wasn't sure if she actually wanted to know the answer.

"The process as you slowly descend _deeper_ and _deeper_ into madness. And what a show it shall be. Usually people go completely insane within the first day. Let's see what happens to you after three." Sif's eyes widened in terror at the words coming out of his mouth. Her gaze wandered erratically, and she still couldn't grasp how anyone could be so cruel. "Is this _yours?_"

Sif's heart sank when she saw her spear in Loki's hands, his eyes examining every inch of it. He knew full-well that it was hers, but he wanted to poke at her wounds every chance he had. She didn't notice Loki grimace when his fingers touched the metal spearhead.

_Damn it. I was so careless. A warrior would never—_

But Sif wasn't a warrior. She was just a girl from a poor village with an unattainable dream. Sif nearly choked on air when Loki bent his leg and made to snap the spear on his thigh.

"NO! NO PLEASE! DON'T! PLEASE!" Loki froze and slowly turned his head towards her. "Please. It's very important to me." A thin, wicked smile crept onto his face.

"Well. Since you asked so nicely." Sif let out a sigh of relief. With the smirk still in place, Loki twitched his hands and snapped the wood as if it was a twig. "Oops. My hand slipped."

When the spear halves clattered to the floor at Sif's feet, she merely stared at them with her mouth hanging open. All of that work, all of those hours alone in the mountains, gone just like that. She picked them up and held them in her lap.

Loud thuds sounded behind her and shook the room, and for a second Sif thought of the trolls. But this was Jotunheim, so it had to be giants.

_'Escort her to the dungeons. I can't have you freezing her limbs off.'_

Sif couldn't understand what he was saying, but it must have been the language the giants used. But how was he so fluent in it? Sure, Loki had taken over their land, but he would never bother learning their language. He would have forced _them_ to understand _him_.

_'Which cell?'_ The giant asked.

_'The smallest one. Three days in there ought to quench my thirst.'_

Sif felt a nudge on her back, then another when she didn't move. The third "nudge" was a large hand pulling her up by her right arm. The giant's icy flesh burned through the material of her sleeve and did the same to her skin. Sif cried out and attempted to pry the hand off, only to get frostbite on her fingers.

_'I told you not to grab her, you imbecile!' _His jaw tightened and he turned his gaze to Sif. "If you have any sense at all, you would be wise to follow him."

A/N: So...yeah. That just happened.


	13. Part 1: Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Characters belong to MARVEL and Norse Mythology. Music composed by Patrick Doyle.

Music: Thor OST Track 13 – Urgent Matter

Part 1: Chapter 11

Loki had allowed Sif about an hour of time to herself, for which she was grateful. While it was still too soon before she saw him again, at least he was merciful in that respect. He could have remained as soon as the giant pushed her into the cell with his enormous foot.

Sif's heart sank when she heard voices outside the "door" to her jail cell. It was really just a wall of ice that Loki could mold into any shape he pleased, including that of a door frame. There were no windows for her to see the passage of time, but it was probably impossible to tell in this dark place anyway.

She felt claustrophobic as soon as he entered the small space, but she tried to hide any signs of it from her face. He probably wouldn't have noticed because of how bruised and swollen it had become. Sif was able to see her reflection in the icy floor, and when she saw her face for the first time, she wept until she had no more tears to shed. They froze on her cheeks anyway.

"And how does my favorite prisoner like her new living accommodations?" He asked in a mocking tone.

"I'm your _only_ prisoner." Sif figured that out when she called for other people and received no replies, and the fact that there were no guards roaming the corridor. The second part of his question, she left unanswered.

"A minor technicality," he said dismissively with a shrug.

Sif ignored him and twisted some of her hair around her finger. When Loki still had yet to say anything, she spared a glance up at him to see that he was looking down at her with a perplexed expression. He then got down on one knee, a sharp and somewhat curved dagger in his hand, and if she hadn't already been sitting against the wall, she would have backed away from him.

"You have such lovely hair," he said, brushing her bangs aside with the tip of the blade. Sif remained as still as possible and said nothing. "It's the only appealing quality about you. It is a shame you were born a blonde."

"W-why is that?" Sif asked shakily when his hand went around to the back of her head.

Sif let out a yelp when she was shoved to the floor, and she could feel Loki tugging on her hair. Then her neck snapped forward, and the pressure on her head ceased. She was unsure of what happened until she saw Loki rise to his feet, and clutched in his left hand was a large amount of her hair. The dagger in his right hand was outlined with fire, and now Sif could feel the flames burning the rest of her hair away. She smacked her palms on her head to try and pat the fire out, but nothing she did was making any difference. This wasn't actual fire, only sorcery. There was no pain and no heat, it just felt like feathers brushing across her now bare scalp.

"Why, Loki?!" Sif shrieked, clutching at her bald head. "Why...?"

_Why did this have to happen to me? I did nothing wrong. Was it because I have been such a disappointment to my parents? Was it because I tried to change my destiny? Am I being punished?_

Sif just wanted to go home, but she couldn't let her parents see her like this. She couldn't let _anybody_ see her like this. Sif didn't even want to _think_ about how Fandral and the others would react if they saw her.

"It reminded me too much of the person I hate the most," he answered bitterly, and the hair in his hand burst into green flames.

_The person he hates the most? What does that mean?_ Sif thought about the bedtime stories parents tell to their children and how the four regions came to be. _Thor? Does he mean Thor?_

"Besides, I can't allow you to get _too_ comfortable in here." That all-too-familiar smirk was back, and Loki wore it like a king. To mock her, he twisted his black hair around his spindly index finger, and without another word he left the cell and resealed the wall.

After a few seconds, Sif stood on shaky legs and rubbed her eyes. She glanced at her spear on the floor, which she had tied together with a strip of fabric from her cloak. With a snarl, she picked it up and thrust it into the wall that Loki had walked through. To her amazement, the sharpened point stuck into the ice.

Sif pulled it out and looked down at the weapon, then around the cell, contemplating.

_I have three days left to dig a hole out of here. And when I get to Asgard, I'll kill Thor myself._

A/N: If anyone can wear a facial expression like royalty, it's Loki. Everyone else can go home. Hooray for non-consensual haircuts!


End file.
